


A Celebration of Victory

by CanadianVoodooMagic



Category: American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Time Period, Drunk Sex, Drunk Shenanigans, Hand Jobs, Historical References, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 21:42:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8913862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanadianVoodooMagic/pseuds/CanadianVoodooMagic
Summary: Green eyes seemed to follow his movements, and Hamilton raised a brow at his closest friend, sharing a moment the others seemed to be unaware of, as always, perhaps at this point they purposely ignored the lingering or dubious looks the two shared.“Come now Alexander, you can’t tell me you aren’t going to celebrate this victory alongside us?”





	

Alexander looked up and he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged his chapped lips at what unfolded. The scene playing out in front of him, his friends, his brothers in arms, those he considered himself fond of, now sitting around at desks and on the floor of the General’s tent. He sat at his own desk still, his fingers tapping idly against the dry surface of parchment, the skin of his hand picking up the small indentations from where the quill pressed just a tad too hard. The other aides laughed merrily, the sound filling the walls of the tent, and he wasn’t usually one to pass on the warmth and laughter that came with drink and victory but there was far too much to be done. Lafayette had procured wine far too good to be found anywhere near the continental camp, and he regularly wondered where the man managed to procure such items. It wasn’t uncommon the Marquis would show with loafs of bread made fresh that morning for Washington’s small family, holed up in the General’s tent scribbling away at correspondence and translations of letters to and from Congress.

Alexander enjoyed the nights they stayed late with one another, Tallmadge, and Tench laughing together over something he surely missed during his concentration on whatever Washington needed. It was getting easier being around them. Laurens sitting at his side, his thigh occasionally pressing against his own, and perhaps it was because of that he enjoyed it so thoroughly.

Even now he caught the young aides’ eye, glancing up at him from where he sat on the floor, Lafayette draped dramatically over his legs, far too long for someone of his stature, thinly muscular if not a little awkwardly lanky. It was charming, the odd angles of Laurens’ body, and yet it was nothing compared to Ben’s surely. He was the tallest of them all, towering over Alexander surely, and competing with the General at this point. Lafayette had grown most peeved when Benjamin had finally surpassed him in height last December. He remembered the conversations and bickering fondly.  
Green eyes seemed to follow his movements, and Hamilton raised a brow at his closest friend, sharing a moment the others seemed to be unaware of, as always, perhaps at this point they purposely ignored the lingering or dubious looks the two shared.

“Come now Alexander, you can’t tell me you aren’t going to celebrate this victory alongside us?” Laurens prompted wearing a smile that stretched his lips thin, the small creases at the corners something Hamilton could never draw his stare away from. This is what caught the attention of the other men in the room, they all looked upon the youngest of them expectantly, Tench waving a flask in the air with an obnoxious bravado, even for him. Hamilton raised a hand in objection.

“Of course my Dear Laurens, but there is still work Washington expects done in the morning, and seeing as you all have drank your weight in ale and wine, I must retain responsibility. For it is my duty to supervise the ruckus of drunken aides as Chief of Staff.” He quipped in response, his tone holding light jest, and that devilish pull to his lips as he smiled.

Laurens’ responding grin was one he wished the boy before him would scratch in charcoal so he could keep it in his breast-pocket for the long days to come.  
Tilghman booed at their conversation and tossed a flask at Hamilton, prompting him to join their drink and merriment. He was sure he could hear the Marquis was even chiming in as he caught and set the flask down at the writing desk.

“No, my dear lads, though I must say I am sure you have all shared enough drink between one another for yourselves and I ten times over.” He said, and picked up his quill once again to resume his writing, the moment spent gazing at his dear Laurens having surpassed the appropriate time limit for someone sober some time ago.

When he turned his back he felt a firm familiar warmth drape over his shoulders and he briefly stiffened at the action. “Coooome on Hammie at least share a few drops and stories with us. I’m sure Washington will understand, the entire camp is celebrating.” And if Laurens hands trailed down his chest no one would be the wiser at that moment, as it simply appeared he was trying to coax Hamilton out of his stubbornness. The aide couldn’t help but smile at the feeling of John wrapped around him so, and he ached to turn and press his lips against the man’s collar and pull him more firmly towards himself, but instead his fingers simply held the quill tighter until it was being manually removed by Laurens from his hand. It was enough to concede less his restraint lack in front of so many prying eyes.

“Alright alright. What do we have left then? Whiskey? I am hoping so if I do not wish to be nursing an ache in the morning.” He said, and his shoulders slumped ever so slightly as Laurens removed his weight from him. He picked up Tilghman’s flask a moment later and raised it to his lips, the familiar burn of alcohol sliding down his throat.

It continued like that for quite some time, Hamilton growing more boisterous as the hours ticked by and the drink in the room depleted. The stars were well into the sky shining over the camp and Laurens was pressed against his side, leaning perhaps a tad too heavily for someone who had ceased drinking quite some time ago. None of the other aides seemed to think anything odd of the display, and for that Alexander was thankful. Lafayette offered him a knowing smile from his spot draped in front of a snoring Tilghman. It seemed even Talmadge was ready to doze off, usually one of the last to fall to the temptation of drink he seemed to have let himself go tonight, and Hamilton wondered briefly if the intelligence Washington was forcing from him was the culprit. Though, he couldn’t concentrate on his worry for his brother very long as Laurens’ face was getting far too close to his own for it to be a safe act between companions.

“Alright I believe it is time for me to get our dearest Laurens to his cot, less he fall asleep on the floor like a sloth.” He quipped, and pointedly looked at their sleeping brother on the floor. Lafayette couldn’t help a small chuckle in reply to Hamilton’s words, he was at least a tad less drunk than the rest of them. Hamilton patted John’s thigh just as he began pushing himself up and the world wobbled, if only slightly. It had been quite sometime since he’d let himself indulge in such a way, but then again he was never able to say no to the man who now struggled to get up beside him, even with his aided hand.

The journey back to their tent was one for the books, Laurens having to pause to empty the contents of his bladder in a bush. Hamilton waited nearby, eyes watching the sentries as their shoulders slumped, exhaustion written into their very posture. He was more than glad it wasn’t a position he held, even if they did often see more action than himself. Far more. But that was a fight for another day. Perhaps at the end of the week when Washington was deciding whether or not to send Laurens back into battle. The thought made his stomach turn, the memories of the soldier coming back slumped over a horse half dead, a hole through his right shoulder vivid in his mind’s eye. The amount of blood, and the pallor of his cheeks. Hamilton had thought him already deceased upon arrival. The weeks following that were a new nightmare entirely, though it was one Alexander thought himself to be numb to. Or at the very least he’d hoped he’d become accustomed to the thought of loss, the idea of coping with such a thing. But Laurens stretched out on a cot in the sick-tent- No. He needed to concentrate. He wiped his hand over his face, his fingers cold against the warmth of his cheeks from the drink. At the very least neither of them would feel the chill in their toes until they woke.

When Laurens re-emerged from the trees he stumbled over to his friend, draping an arm over his shoulder as he had previously in the General’s tent. “Careful now Laurens, there aren’t any extra bandages to patch up your scraped palms should you fall.” He mocked, a smile pulling his lips that was mirrored on John’s. Another favorite expression of his, the lopsided pull of those tantalizing lips, shiny from licking them recently he was sure. Their faces were so close now he could just------NO.

He had to force his gaze away, and he was sure the man beside him frowned, but they must wait until they were behind the secured ties of their tent. Privately tucked under the wool blankets gathered from both of their cots, one lying empty nearly every night now.

They finally made it back to their tent, and Laurens was laughing as he fell onto the cot, smiling up at Alexander like he hung the very stars in the sky. If only the boy below him understood that it was he who did such a thing in Alexander’s eyes. John Laurens was his North South East and West, his moon and his sky. His workdays and his Sunday’s rest. There were a million words on the tip of his tongue but he knew better than to wax poetic outloud. No, those words would be confined to their letters later surely. There have been times where Laurens has gone to South Carolina, diplomatic missions to attempt and sway congress to their favor. When Alexander had to go to the Brandywine for a brief mission that nearly got him killed. When Laurens was shot. There were far too many accounts of their absence from one another. Too many to bare, Alexander ached for the man each second they were apart and he wondered if John had ever fared the same.

John’s hands raised and made childish motions of desire towards his partner, and Alexander smiled again, the soft expression reserved solely for him melting away the tension that had begun to grow in his shoulders. “Yes my dearest? What do you desire?” His voice was hardly above a whisper as he stripped himself of his boots and coat. The night was cold, and there was hardly any desire to strip down anything but the most uncomfortable layers. His vest came next, followed closely by his necktie, and Laurens watched as if transfixed by those nimble fingers that wrote the world into reality.

“You still have not responded to me, my heart.” He murmured, his voice softer even now, and John once more beamed at him, a flash of teeth as he sat up in the bed to fully face the man undressing. “You really should join me in derobing.” Alexander teased, folding the final pieces in a neat pile.

“But what if I desire you to do such for me?” Laurens shot back, hands moving to Hamilton’s hips as he stood close, and the man’s nimble fingers worked into his hair in reply, undoing the ribbon at the top of his plait. “Well then, I suppose I would have to fulfill such a request.” He responded, thumb brushing a loose strand of hair behind Laurens’ ear.

Perhaps the whiskey made him affectionate, but the warmth that spread through him at the gaze of his lover was enough to spur Hamilton forward, connecting their lips, something chaste and softer than the usual frenzied desire that existed between the two of them.

Alexander felt the ache in his neck, the odd angle of leaning down and kissing Laurens growing tiring so he pressed lightly on the front of his chest prompting the man to fall back all the way into the cot. Alexander followed quickly enough, climbing over him onto the cot as John eagerly discarded his own coat seeming to forget his earlier request. Hamilton’s hand aided the unbottoning as the other man seemed to fumble just a tad too much.

He ended up laughing lightly at his partner’s frustration, the drink making it hard to do anything even as simple as removing clothing. “Here my dearest Laurens, lay back.” Hamilton instructed once more, his knees bracketing both of John’s hips as he sat his weight lightly on the older man’s legs.  
He quickly undid every button of his vest and coat and had John sit up just enough to get the garments off of his shoulders. Nimble fingers moved to the tie at the base of his throat and slowly unraveled the cloth until it was time to undo the second knot at the nape of his neck. Once those were both gone and John had kicked his boots off to the floor, Hamilton began a trail of kisses at the side of his neck, sloppy and opened mouth but it was worth the hitch in breath he heard from the other man.

A hand moved into his own hair, running through the strands that were coming loose from the tie he had haphazardly done this morning. When John’s fingers caught at the ribbon he tugged until it fell, veiling Alexander’s face in a curtain of dark locks. He leaned up then and kissed John again, the kiss growing from something sweet and innocent to needy and fueled by that fiery passion they were accustomed to with one another. Alexander kissed like he lived, full of desire and relentlessly. Laurens was far more pliant underneath the forceful hurricane of his lover’s passions, his lips giving and parting as a tongue slipped through, licking at his teeth until a small sigh left him.

Hamilton’s hands were never idle long, and they began unbuttoning the first part of his shirt, the soft cotton easily falling open at the top of John’s chest, the lace and ruffles at the side something Alexander found pleasing to touch. It was no question that the shirt was well made, sent from John’s father in South Carolina, far nicer than the thin one that draped from Alexander’s too thin frame.  
He was sure both of them were far too drunk to last long, and as his fingers moved to the laces on John’s breeches he could already feel the outline of his cock, hard and straining against the leather, he gave the bulge an appreciative squeeze as John moaned into his mouth. His elbow and knees currently held his weight, framing Laurens’ limbs as if he were a shield over him, offering protection from the chill of night.

His hand finally finished undoing the man’s breeches, years of practice in such a manner made it a smooth enough transition even in his inebriated state. The electricity in his veins increasing as his hand finally wrapped around the smooth heat, fingers lightly stroking his cock as his lover trembled beneath him. Strong fingers grabbed at Alexander’s bicep, encouraging him to keep moving his hand but the skin of John’s cock was too dry for the movements to continue to be comfortable. He let go and the man beneath him whined, it was music to Alexander’s ears. He lifted his hand to John’s lips, and watched as a tongue found his palm and licked a stripe up the center before pulling his fingers in. Alexander could have moaned, nearly did as he watched each digit slip into those lips that had caught his attention earlier in the night. The eye contact surely wasn’t helping either, those bright hazel green barely visible in the lowlit canvas of their tent. A candle sitting on a desk long forgotten and dripping wax into its bowl. It wasn’t unusual for the aides (Alexander) to be up far past acceptable hours, and other recruits had learned by now to leave him be.

He bit his lip as John finally released the digits and he moved his hand back to the man’s breeches, slipping beneath to wrap around him once more. The small gasp that left John’s kiss-swollen lips was something Hamilton tuned in on, wanting to hear more small noises from his lover as he pleasured him. “That’s it.” He murmured, lips once more finding the flesh on Lauren’s chest, leaving small nips along the muscle as his hand stroked a quicker rhythm. John’s hand returned to his bicep clutching, but not hard enough to inhibit his movements that he so desired.

He was sure John was getting close quickly, the tightening of his fingers and the teeth in his lip dead giveaways. The man’s face scrunched up in pleasure was something Alexander would surely never grow tired of.

His hand picked up speed then, thumb brushing over his slit as he attempted to make his hand mimic the tightness of a body. The slide became easier as precum dripped regularly weeped from the head of John’s cock, making his fingers slick as the saliva from John’s lips dried.

“You feel so good in my hand like this.” He said softly, knowing the words would go straight through him, he had encouraged him talking in the past, and Hamilton wouldn’t be himself if he gave up an opportunity to run his mouth.

“Look at you, you’re so pretty like this. You need me don’t you mon coeur?” He murmured, words slipping into french with ease, and perhaps it was just to entice the small whine he heard fall from John’s lips as his hips pressed up into Alexander’s . A vivid reminder of his own aching arousal, but surely it could wait just a tad longer.  
It wouldn’t be long now he was positive.

His mouth picked up again leaving kisses on Laurens’ chest and up the side of his throat, sucking small bruises into the skin as a hand found his hair, tangling in the long strands at the back of his head and tugging until their lips crashed together once again. John moaned into the kiss as Alexander’s hand twisted on the upstroke and just like that he was spilling over himself and Hamilton’s hand.

He panted into the kiss before that same dopey smile lifted his lips and Alexander placed one last brief peck on the corner of his mouth.  
“It is a shame about the mess such activities make.” He said, mostly to himself as he wiped his hand on a scrap of cotton near the bedside table.  
John’s hands found his hips again and tugged, pulling Alexander’s attention until he was falling forward to kiss him again and again. It was almost silly and childish and perhaps he could ignore his own arousal and simply bask in the radiance that was John.  
But like the diligent lover he was, John did not forget Alexander in his drunken haze and his hand was quick to find the front of his breeches.  
Any thought of ignoring his own arousal was lost as firm fingers found the outline of his cock, and Alexander let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Sit back.”

John’s instruction came, and for once Alexander didn’t put up a fight as he moved to sit back on the cot. John quickly shifted their positions and leaned over his slighter lover. Alexander’s hand came up to once more thread into and loosen the braid John’s hair was in. Using the plait to bring their lips together with a heated need. It didn’t last. John moved down the column of his throat with diligence, sucking small marks near the base of his collar. No one would be the wiser under the high ties they all wore.  
Hands pushed up the tails of his shirt until his stomach and chest were exposed, the fabric catching at his underarms. He didn’t wish to remove the garment completely, the chill in the air breaking gooseflesh on his exposed flesh as was. Though heat didn’t seem to be a problem coming from John’s lips down his abdomen, leaving small nips over his prominent ribs and the slight dip of his belly. His hand remained tangled in brown curls, holding on as lips trailed over the small hairs near the line of his breeches. Hands quickly moved to undo the ties completely, pulling them open and releasing the strain on Alexander’s cock.  
He could have moaned just from the site.

John’s mouth hovered over him for a moment, that same smile plastered on his lips before he licked a stripe up the underside of his cock. Hamilton had to bite his lip, keeping in the groan that threatened to spill from him. It took only a second more of teasing before John was pulling him into his mouth, bobbing his head slowly. The grip Alexander had in his hair only grew tighter as that tongue swirled over the head of his cock. It felt amazing, the tight heat and warmth of his mouth enough to push him towards an early release he was sure.

He bit his lip, trying to keep himself from finishing too soon, he wanted this to last. Wanted every second, and feeling to be committed to memory. He also didn’t want to embarrass himself. “Christ John.” He moaned, the sound relatively quiet as it had to be given their placement in camp. One of these days he would be able to pull his beloved to a far away cabin, and ravish him properly, openly, he wanted to hear John scream his name. He wanted to do the same.

Every bob of his head and teasing of his tongue pulled Alexander to the brink, the heat pooling familiarly in his abdomen as his hips gave small thrusts up into the heat of John’s mouth. A small whine escaped his throat as a warning to the other man, but he remained relentless in his ministrations. Urging Alexander to finish with every hollowing of his cheeks. He’d grown quite good at this over time, far too good for Hamilton to keep any advantage, and he knew he was done for the moment those green eyes met his. He came in the other’s mouth, a light stuttering of his hips giving him away. Mindful of the mess John made quick work of licking him clean, the light kiss to the head of Alexander’s cock sending shivers up his spine.

“You’re far too good at that.” He said, the praise rolling off his tongue easily as John tucked him back into his trousers.

“I would hope so given the noises you made.” John’s reply was quipped with an award winning smile and Alexander pulled him once more into a kiss, tasting the salt on his tongue.

“Now we should rest, my heart.” The murmur left Alexander’s lips as he brushed his nose along the line of his lover’s jaw. That seemed to bring a chuckle to John’s lips as he settled in at his side, tucking against him.

“I believe you’re right. Goodnight Alexander.”

“Goodnight John.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic for the fandom. Hope you enjoy it. Kudos and comments are very encouraged.


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